


Mountain Retreat

by GymBey198



Category: Actor RPF, American (US) Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015), The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015) RPF
Genre: (Male) Female Ejaculation, Anal Fingering, Angst, Anus With Vagina Rising, Dildos, Double Penetration, Erotica, Eventual Sex, Explicit references to Skiing, Fisting, Gender Play, Gratuitous tense-shifting, Gym, Holidays, Huge Pecs, Imagined incest, Lingerie, M/M, Male Lactation, Mountains, Multi, Muscle, Pectits, Porn with minimal Plot, Pregnancy Kink, Rape/Non-con Elements, Relationship Going Wrong, Romance, Rosebud - Freeform, Smut, The Non-con is con pretty much immediately, Verbal Abuse, Workout, cute couple, gender fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:00:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28176555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GymBey198/pseuds/GymBey198
Summary: Armie and Henry have a romantic break planned in the Swiss Alps. Armie is outdoorsy and fit, Henry is a big ol' bottom who likes to stay in all day. Muscles are pumped, butts are fingered, things get intense in the second chapter. Possibly too intense.
Relationships: Armie Hammer/Original Character(s), Armie Hammer/Original Male Character(s), Henry Cavill/Armie Hammer, Henry Cavill/Original Character(s), Henry Cavill/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 20





	1. The Setup

**Author's Note:**

> Written for, and original idea by, ms201120102009 - thanks for all the help and comments!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of 2. Henry and Armie head off for a quiet break in the mountains... with sexy consequences.

Early morning sunshine was catching the snowy peak of the Matterhorn as the big Mercedes SUV wound up the long, lazy switchbacks rising up from Zermatt. Henry pressed his face against the cold window to catch the view opening out across the valley. It felt so calm up here. So safe. Just his sweet Armie for company, and protection. The American's deep, earthy scent mingled with the leather and walnut of the German automobile and cocooned him in happy smells. He reached over to squeeze Armie’s long, lean thigh, just to say ‘Hi. I’m here. I love you.’

The two men had barely spoken on the drive from Geneva. They didn’t have to. Years of friendship, and now this sudden leap into something new. Somehow it had all just worked. For the second time in his life, Henry was in love. And this time he wan’t going to fuck it up. He enjoyed watching Armie drive. Somehow the man's personality, his unaggressive confidence and quiet poise were communicated to the car, which sprinted willingly up the hills without complaint. ‘Handling those curves as well as he handles mine.' That thought made Henry smile to himself at the happy memories. Some of them as recent as last night. 

‘What are you thinking babe?’, Armie asked.

‘Oh nothing. Nothing. Just thinking how much I love you, you know?’ Henry replied, offering a doe-eyed pout to his lover that was only half ironic. Armie gave him a wink that said 'I know you actually mean it though', then abruptly swung them right through the gates of the resort. A few hundred metres down the driveway, they pulled up in front of a glass and limestone pavilion set into the side of the mountain. Well away from the schicki-micki gingerbread chalets and the loud Russians with their broods of screaming kids, the retreat was the work of a renowned Swiss architect who believed in the virtues of having huge amounts of almost nothing, and whatever that nothing was, you could be sure it was devilishly expensive. Henry didn’t pretend to understand design but he knew Armie’s passion for it, and the towering American was in raptures as they climbed out of the car; almost like a fan freaking out at meeting a favourite celebrity.

Forgetting himself, Armie wandered slowly over to the building, lost in thought. He took in the low central podium that was flanked by two wings, both similarly massive as if they had grown out of the mountain itself. Atop these were perched matching glass oblongs: translucent, framed in slender steel, and refracting the views of the mountains around them. Behind him, a little more practical, Henry popped the trunk and began to unload his small bags and Armie’s skiing gear. He knew his boyfriend would be on the slopes every chance he got, enjoying the challenge of the early season snow; Henry himself was here to have some quiet, some privacy, and recover. God he needed it. He heard a cry of greeting, and looked round to see a tall figure in a dark blue jumper and jeans emerge from the concealed door and lope over to Armie. They were nearly the same height and build, but this man moved differently. Armie was natural, but refined, equally at home in the city and country, and tended to amble around in the way of the man who is comfortable in his own skin. The newcomer was more.. wolfish. Was Henry just being dramatic because of the scenery? No, the guy definitely had something animalistic about him.

He watched the two men shake hands and saw them size each other up a little, the way guys do. All smiles though. Armie turned as if to introduce Henry, only then realising he had left him with the car and bags while he took in the _architecture_. He began to come back to help but the young man waved him away and into the house with a grin. A few long, easy strides and he stood in front of Henry. High cheekbones, pale skin flushed with the cold, and blue eyes that reminded Henry uncannily of his friend Jamie Dornan. But this guy couldn’t be older than 25.

“Hi, welcome to Valls House. I’m James. Nice to meet you.”  
  
A British accent? Interesting. Low but clear, almost as if he was speaking inside Henry’s head. He couldn’t help himself… his eyes ranged over the broad shoulders, narrow waist, the outline of a thick cock in tight jeans, the strong hands. Those muscular, rough fingers…probing inside him… No! Stop it, you’re here with Armie. Behave.  
  
“Ummmm. Let me get those for you.” James took charge of the awkward silence, hefting the largest bags. Of course he’s used to being ogled by guests, Henry thought to himself. Am I just another pervy old man now? He quickly rescued one of his holdalls from the over-helpful James. That one bag’s contents didn’t need to spill out in public! Locking the car, he followed the tall Brit towards this architectural marvel that he hoped would make Armie happy.  
  
“Oh, I’m Henry!” He realised he’d forgot to introduce himself. “Nice to meet you.” He hurried inside apologetically behind James’ rangy frame.  
  
They caught up with Armie in the main hall. Polished travertine slabs formed the floor of the podium with glass opposite…Otherwise the room was empty. A flight of stairs rose on either side, left and right, and another dropped down into the bowels of the mountain beneath them  
  
“Let me show you your wing, gentlemen.” James smiled and indicated a staircase to their left.  
  
Henry led the way, his broad butt waving in Armie’s face a little more than the stairs warranted. They emerged into another glass cube, this one raised up over the valley, cantilevered impossibly far out over the edge of the rock.  
  
“The west wing is your private area. You won’t be disturbed here unless you call down for service. If you have any desires at all, my card is on the console. Please don’t hesitate, I’m always around somewhere.”  
  
Henry could think of some desires James could service for him. He shucked his coat onto an armchair, revealing the skin tight cashmere sweater underneath. The soft fabric hugged his massive pec-tits. “I will not hesitate, I promise.” He grinned cheekily at the broad-shouldered youth and bounced his pec subtly. James blushed, not sure where to look.

“Henry, behave. Let the young man get back to work.” Armie frowned at him, but he clearly enjoying the effect his boyfriend’s voluptuous muscles had on the handsome kid.  
  
“James, we’ll let you know if we need anything.”  
  
Armie went to pass the guy a 20 Euro bill, but he politely declined. “We don’t… in Switzerland it’s not necessary.” He smiled.  
  
“No, I insist. You carried all these bags up for us!”  
  
“Really. Not necessary. Errrr, my father is the owner and architect so…” He shrugged slightly and spread his hands as if to politely indicate all this would one day belong to him, so a twenty Euro note here or there was no big deal.  
  
“Ah, Understood. Well, our thanks anyway.” Armie clapped a hand on James’ shoulder.  
  
“Enjoy your morning gentlemen. Remember, anything at all, just call.”

Finally alone, Armie paced in reverent appreciation around the perimeter of their pavilion. Floor to ceiling glass on three sides opened over a drop into the valley below, and bright sunshine flooded in reflected from snow-white crags opposite. Henry loved to watch his handsome American at moments like this, totally absorbed and unaware of how beautiful and golden he looked. Henry wriggled out of his tight jeans and jumper and crawled onto the huge white bed. A sheer black thong, richly embroidered with lace, split the creamy curve of his massive muscular buttocks in two.  
  
“Hey, handsome!” He called across the expanse of the apartment. Nothing. Armie was lost in contemplation of a mid-century walnut desk. What a total dork.  
  
“Armie, baby” Henry sighed, pushing his ass hungrily in the air. Finally he got through. Armie’s blonde head shot up and he grinned appreciatively at the view. In a moment he was on the bed, on top of Henry, pinning him down, peppering his neck and shoulders with kisses. The rough denim and scratchy wool of his clothing was so stimulating on Henry’s naked skin and he squirmed away. But his curvy luscious body offered too many hand holds for Armie’s agile fingers and he was quickly subdued, lying panting, quivering, face down under his athletic boyfriend. As always, Armie assaulted him in the most delicate, tender ways. A warm tongue unfurled into his flushed ear, and the tips of those long pianist’s fingers traced the juicy fold of his glutes.  
  
“Baby, you’re already wet down here.”  
  
Armie brought his fingers to his mouth to taste the clear sticky fluid, then gave them to Henry to suck clean. After years of abuse - physical and hormonal - Henry’s hole now oozed a warm liquid, like a thick sweet precum, to lubricate itself when he was horny.  
  
“Did that handsome stud carrying your bags up here like a young gentleman get your pussy moist?”  
  
He teased, returning his fingers to their delicate probing. Henry arched his back again and unfurled the lips of his rosebud under his man’s touch.  
  
“Well firstly, you know I hate the word moist. And secondly… yeah kinda. He reminded me of you.”  
  
Armie nibbled Henry’s earlobe pensively for a moment.  
  
“Yes. I can see that actually. Like a pale little brother.”  
  
“Or a son.” Henry felt Armie’s fingers twitch softly inside him, seeking out his prostrate. Juices flowed freely from the soft hole down onto his smooth scrotum and muscular thighs.  
  
“Kinky…and from the way he was staring at your tits, he’d probably be happy breastfeeding” Roars of guilty laughter. Henry pushed Armie off him pretending to sulk. The man was such an idiot sometimes.  
  
“I guess you’re going to abandon me here to go ski all afternoon aren’t you? It’ll be just me to defend my virtue from that young stallion. Pretty risky.”  
  
“Yes. If he wasn’t straight, I’d never take the risk.”  
  
“And what if he’s gay?”  
  
“You think everyone’s gay!”  
  
“Well you think everyone’s straight!”  
  
“Most people _are_ Henry.”  
  
“Alright fine, go skiing. But if your little brother gets confused by my heaving rack while you’re gone and knocks me up, you better raise the baby with me.”  
  
Armie lunged for Henry and pulled him into a bearhug, kissing him deeply.  
  
“I promise. You’re an idiot, but I love you.”  
  
“Love you too handsome. Come back soon. I’ll miss you.”  
  
\--

All alone with his thoughts in their pavilion, Henry fished an old paperback out of his bag. A favourite fantasy novel, he’d read it more times than he could remember. But the imagination, the twisting plot lines, the strange languages and creatures made him feel thrilled and safe, like he was a kid again. He settled in the enclosed balcony on a long, low, impossibly chic Danish lounger, found his place, and started to drift off into his story. He couldn’t settle to it though. Maybe the spare, grandiose building or the huge view of the woods and mountains before him kept dragging him back into the present. His eyes ranges over the forested valley tracing the gaps in the trees cut out in relief by the bright white of the snow. It felt so abstract somehow. Half fantasy landscape, half abstract canvas.  
  
Vaguely he became aware of sounds coming from the far side of the building. He wandered across the travertine floor, enjoying the warmth which oozed up from beneath the stone slabs. From the floor-length windows facing the courtyard, he saw something which was definitely not abstract, although it might be a bit of a fantasy. James was working in the yard with an ax and a pile of firewood. As Henry watched he brought the ax round in long, easy arc splitting the small trunk on the chopping block neatly in two; placed the next log; swung again. His body was working in an efficient rhythm. Henry enjoyed the sight of his long legs in their snug jeans, and the shine of sweat on his strong forearms when he rolled up the sleeves of his plaid shirt. He felt a familiar feeling in between his massive ass cheeks as his soft little pussy began to twitch. Oh god, if he spent any longer here at the window, perving on that handsome young guy, he’d soon have a patch of pussy juice spreading over the seat of his shorts. But how sweet would those thick fingers feel rubbing down over his cunt lips, slipping inside him so easily. He pictured James’ shocked face as the folds of his hole unfurled and gobbled up the digits of his hand: one, two, three, the easy little fourth… then fold in the thumb and push.. Oh!  
  
A new figure had entered the courtyard. A handsome blonde girl. Henry recognised the type, the same anywhere in the world. Well bred. Horsey of course: by inclination and by appearance. Probably another well-to-do family from along the valley. James put down his ax and the pair chatted while Henry watched unnoticed. He could see James was a touch shy, grinning awkwardly. Not the most natural conversationalist. Better with hands maybe... The girl was flirting more obviously. At one point she reached over and gripped James’ bicep, probably teasing him about his ‘hunky woodsman’ look, but he didn’t seem so comfortable. Henry made a mental note to ask Armie to give the boy some advice on women. His American was effortlessly smooth with either sex.

Henry headed back to his lounger and book, but his mind kept wandering to the young man with the large hands downstairs. So this James was straight huh? That meant there was no question of infidelity. He could have some fun without letting Armie down. Stroking a juicy nipple with one hand, he scrolled through the Villa’s brochure on his iPhone. What kind of ‘service’ could he order from James that would give him a chance to flirt with the handsome boy? Massage? No James wouldn’t do that himself surely. Wine Tasting? Well, some straight guys could get handsy after a drink or two… No here, much better. Apparently on the lowest floor of the central Podium there was a weight training room. No cardio machines - that’s what the mountains and the skiing were for - but it looked like it had a squat rack and bench press, and that’s all he needed.  
  
Thirty minutes later, pumped and sweaty from his warm-up, Henry dialled up the number from James’ card.  
  
“Hi, yes this is Henry. Sorry to bother you, I’m just in the gym and needed a spot for a couple of minutes. Are you available?”  
  
“Yes sure, no problem! But I’ll be a couple of minutes. I’ll have to run up to the lodge and grab my gym gear.”  
  
“Oh, don’t worry. I actually figured this might happen so I brought Armie’s trainers down with me. I reckon you’re the same size.”  
  
“46?”  
  
“Precisely. Call it a lucky guess.”  
  
“Ah.. well that’s very kind of your Sir. I’ll be right there.”  
  
Henry smiled to himself. His plan was obvious enough that even a straight guy would figure out he was flirting. And if it wasn’t the stupid blue vest Armie had bought him with ‘BOTTOM’ written across the chest in pink letters would at least give him a laugh. That chest, nicely tender from some flies and push ups, was stretching the thin fabric ready to burst. Hearing approaching footsteps, he quickly turned away from the door and started a set of light deadlifts. It was only polite to greet his new young friend with a face full of rump pumping hard in his tiny shorts.  
  
“Hi. Mr Cavill. At your service!”  
  
James arrived just as he finished the set, toeing off his boots outside the pristine weights area. They shook hands and Henry indicated the pile of gym gear he’d brought. Not just trainers, but some snug shorts and a tight-fitting long sleeve that looked so good on Armie it made Henry swoon. Totally unabashed in that typical country boy way, James dropped his jeans and shrugged out of his shirt, giving Henry plenty of time to ogle his strong chest and legs covered with dark hair, and the substantial bulge filling his CK briefs.  
  
“Alright let’s go!” Henry enthused. He really did love working out. Lowering his big body to the bench press he slipped under the bar and James came to stand over his head. All business, Henry pumped out 15 reps smoothly and without much effort. His huge pecs swelled with power as they easily hefted the weight up and down and more blood pumped into them, flushing the pale skin a ruddy pink.  
  
“More weight?”  
  
“More weight.”  
  
The two men got to work adding plates to the bar and Henry slid under again. This time he had a challenge. He pushed out 12 repetitions, then decided to try one more. Too much! James slipped his strong hands around the shaft and helped to rack it, his fingertips brushing Henry sensitive tits as he did so.  
  
“Damn. Thanks man. I’ll take one more try at that in a moment.”  
  
“You are really so strong, it’s incredible. Pleasure to watch you work! By the way, can I ask.. what’s ‘Bottom’ mean? Like, you have a big one?” James wondered aloud, glancing in the mirror over Henry’s shoulders.  
  
“Ha! You cheeky fucker!”, Henry grinned at the handsome kid. “Actually, it’s a sex thing.”  
  
James looked confused.  
  
“You mean, like,..”, He made an ambiguous sort of motion with his hand.  
  
“I’m ‘The Girl’ yeah.” Henry finished his thought for him. “Surprised?”  
  
James recovered himself well. “No no, I mean, look at these muscle boobs. You’ve got a bigger rack than my girlfriend.”  
  
Henry got back under the bar. Was James showing a bit more bulge in his shorts? Was he getting horny somehow?  
  
“Well I hope she doesn’t get jealous from how much you’re staring at them.” Henry winked, and flexed his pec muscles, setting his meaty tits jiggling. He was half certain he heard James moan quietly.  
  
“Let’s do this!” Henry unracked the bar and began his reps. It was tough going.  
  
“James, tap my pecs. I need to feel the movement.” James’ knew what he was doing as a spotter. His fingers started tapping around the top and centre of Henry’s chest as the big man worked. He managed two more reps, sinking his mind into the mass of pumped up meat to find more power.  
  
“Squeeze them! One more rep!”  
  
James gripped down hard on the swollen muscle and the shot of pain-pleasure jerked Henry into one more extension. He slammed the bar back down into its cradle and lay there exhausted.  
  
James didn’t remove his hands. The softness of the now-relaxed muscle meat moved under his capable touch, massaging firmly over the smooth skin. Henry lay there enjoying the young man’s dreamy massage, quiet, not wanting to disturb the spell his massive body seemed to have cast on the kid. Was this how he played with his girlfriend's tits as well. He watched hungrily as a long outline lengthened in the leg of Armie’s shorts. The musky smell of a man at work, traces of sweat, of mountain air, of sperm... all assaulted Henry's nostrils. His pussy would start leaking any second now. What would happen if he just reached up and licked it? Would a bead of precum ooze through the fabric and between his lips? He felt his own small cock harden in the lacy thong. Suddenly James’ thumbs found his nipples and he couldn’t hold in a little ‘Oh!’ Of pleasure.

The spell was broken.

“Ummmm, well. Yes. I better get on.” James spoke as if waking from a deep sleep.  
  
“Sure. Sure! Thanks so much for your help.!” Henry smiled. “Keep the clothes, they suit you! Armie won’t mind.”  
  
The young man hurried out, blushing furiously. Left alone with his thoughts, Henry idly hefted the weight of each of his tender breasts, feeling the size and softness in his hand. Were they big enough to drive even a straight guy crazy? Should he dial back the workouts a little? No. He loved them. Armie loved them. Oh Armie! Henry missed him even after just a couple of hours apart. The boy was fun to tease but he couldn’t wait to have his sweet, golden giant of a man hold him again this evening. Now he just need a hot shower and a quick nap before his lover returned.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so this was meant to be a cute holiday romance and it turned into... this. Please note updated tags.  
> Other warnings: some use of the f-word (Not fuck, no. The other one); some gender-play stuff I'm not sure how to categorise.
> 
> Huge apologies to Henry, who I'm sure is a very vanilla heterosexual with an exceedingly normal, well-adjusted love life.

Armie got back late in the afternoon. He found Henry fast asleep cuddled round a pillow, murmuring softly to himself. Armie couldn’t bring himself to disturb the sweet scene. He planted a gentle kiss among the dark curls at the back of his lover’s neck, inhaling the sweet floral scent that always lingered there after a shower.

<Hey sleeping beauty. Gone for a steam. Write me when you’re recovered. xx>

He saw the message pop up on Henry’s phone, ready to greet him whenever he woke.

Armie headed down to the spa. The floor plan of the house was clear in his mind from hours spent poring over architectural reviews. Crossing the polished stone of the main hall he dropped down into the subterranean levels, following a long corridor with a glass wall that looked over the mountains opposite. He passed a small gym on his right, a hammam, then a shower room, before reaching the sauna: a shadowy cavern cut from the side of the mountain. The only light came from a deep slit window chiselled through the rock.

He was greeted by the intimidating sight of James, stark naked and splayed over one of the low stone benches. His pale skin against the black granite lent him the look of a young god entering the prime of his strength. Dark hair curled over his chest, plunged down in a trail across carved abdominals and clustered round the base of a thick cock. Armie respectfully noted the meaty uncut dick. It lolled heavily over a pair of impressive balls that hung low in the heat of the baths. He shucked his t-shirt and bathing shorts - why not, since he was in Europe - and sat down on the bench opposite his host.

The younger man sat up when he realised he had company.

“Ah, you’re back. How was the snow?”.

The tone was the same as earlier: polite, helpful, somehow restrained. But the powerful body lounging naked across the stones of his father’s house lent the curt sentences an arrogance that had been absent before.

They made pleasant-enough small talk: comparing the best routes down the mountain and discussing other villas of note in the area Armie might want to visit. Some gentle probing revealed James’ education away from home in England; a little more and he opened up about an argument earlier that day with his girlfriend. Or as he put it, his ‘local girlfriend’. No doubt about the long-term chances for that relationship! Like every other young man, James thought his romantic difficulties unique, impossible and deeply interesting. Armie was just enjoying the idea of this young adonis rutting his way through the mountain valleys, and looking forward to disappointing Henry with news of their handsome host’s heterosexuality later that evening. The frustrated pout would be adorable.

Armie’s tired body slowly relaxed in the heat and he enjoyed the view of the kid’s physique. There was a superficial resemblance to Henry sure - the hair, the skin, the accent. Maybe the British boarding school manner. But actually there might be more in common between the two of them. The same cropped body hair. The long, rangy limbs. James was broader in the chest and shoulders true, with thick work-roughened hands. Signs of an outdoor life Armie had only experienced at play. A shade shorter than his own 6’5, but the young stallion gained those inches back downstairs and wasn’t shy about showing it. The whole impression was strong and purposeful with that hint of potential violence common to those who grow up on the land.

He wondered for a moment how it would feel to spread his legs for the boy’s big dick. It was years since he’d bottomed. But no, he couldn’t see it. They were just too similar - different shades of the same type, one pale brunette, the other blonde and bronze.

“Will Henry be joining you?” The question caught Armie a little off guard, considering his train of thought.

“Errrr, no, I just came down here to pass some time since he’s asleep. I guess he had a tiring day somehow. Even staying at home wears him out.”

“Ah. Well he did do a workout earlier.”

Armie couldn’t tell in the semi-dark. Was James smirking? His tone had an ironic edge.

“Chest, I assume.”

“Yes actually. He asked for a spot.”

Now Armie smirked. Typical Henry, flirting with every handsome boy he could.

“He does love training them. That, I mean… Ah, that’ll be him now.”

His iPhone, lying in the pile of discarded clothes, had just lit up.

<All Recovered ;)>

A photo was attached that sent the blood rushing to Armie’s cock. His tousle-haired beauty lay back on the snow-white pillows pouting up at the camera, one dark eyebrow raised coquettishly. One hand squeezing the thick curve of his chest up into the frame.

<About time! I want you in the pink today. Face down. Pussy up. Be quick>

After his strenuous skiing trip, Armie couldn’t wait for the sweet, erotic evening with his ever-hungry muscle bottom.

<Yes Sir>

He smiled down at his screen like an idiot. The man really did love following instructions. Henry would already be squeezing into Armie’s choice of lingerie. It was always so adorable when he struggled to get the garters up around his muscular quads. It wasn’t entirely clear where his rugby-watching, computer-geek boyfriend’s love of all things slutty, lacy and feminine had sprung from, but it suited his obedient, passive personality perfectly, and Armie had to admit the contrast with his beefy body became more and more alluring as he’d grown bigger and bigger.

‘Ah, I have to go I’m afraid. Henry needs… a few things’

‘Anything I can help with?’

Armie grinned at the thought. But then again, why not? Somehow he wanted to make clear to this handsome straight boy that he was the alpha in the couple. Maybe they were a pair of middle-aged fags on holiday, but at least _he_ was the stud. And the thought of Henry’s embarrassed blushes at being exposed as a big sissy bottom would be… quite exquisite. Even if he would need fucking out of his sulk, he deserved a little punishment for his apparent exploits in the gym.

“Well he’d like some tea - Lapsang if you have it. But I’m sure the maid can manage. We don’t want to hassle you for everything.”

“She’s gone for the evening already. Swiss working hours.” James shrugged as if this was a problem everyone was familiar with.

“But anyhow, the continentals don’t have a clue when it comes to tea. I’ll take it up now while you shower off. No problem at all.” There was that civil politeness again, crackling into action in the most British way. He pulled on a thick robe and strode off along the corridor, somehow commanding even when carrying out a request.

Armie headed to the showers, grateful for a little more time to ease out the kinks from his time off-piste before he was expected to perform. Every year the aches came back a little more insistently. He remembered his early 20s. Back then he’d imagined he’d be special, somehow immune to ageing. That his father’s complaints after an afternoon on the slopes were something that would never come to him. James would be thinking the same thing now. Standing under the hot water, he jerked his hardening dick. By now Henry should be on full display, legs akimbo. The huge globes of his ass would be bisected by a delicate string of pearl-embroidered pink lace that rubbed over a wet and willing pussy. The slutty mare would be cock-hungry after his day home alone; listening intently for steps on the stairs; biting the comforter in giddy anticipation of a warm tongue tip lapping over his slit… maybe even slipping a hand down between his thighs to tease the hole open and start his juices flowing.

Christ! If he thought about that any longer he’d cum right there under the water jets.

Drying off quickly he found a robe on the back of the door, gathered his things and went up the stairs to the main hall. He took a moment there to look out through the great glass walls as sunset painted the valley pink and orange.

Then screams.

Scared, shrill, incoherent screams. A few choked-off words. “No! Please no! Stop!”, then “Help me! Armie… Ar-”

Screams cut off.

He charged up the stairs two at a time, almost tripped on a fine silver tea service abandoned on the top step,

* * *

…emerges into a pavilion flooded with sunset light, and freezes in shock.

Henry is pinned down on the bed, one arm twisted tight behind his back at a terrible angle. His dark curls are crushed under a strong foot that presses the pretty face down into the mattress. James braces himself on Henry’s own head and fucks down into the massive vulnerable bubble ass quivering beneath him. Henry’s thick thighs buck and scrabble desperately to find purchase but his gym-pumped curves are no match for the work-toughened body that slams mercilessly down, over and over into the jiggling soft glutes.

Armie takes a hesitant step forward and James’ head whips up. Their eyes meet. James’ lips curl into half a snarl. There is fuck lust in his eyes, and strength, and contempt. Armie feels a wave fear for his lover drop through the pit of his stomach to meet a wave of arousal surging up from his cock. His body has betrayed him.

Smirking, James drops his foot away from Henry’s head and twines rough fingers through his shock of curls, pulling the pretty brunette up so his eyes meet those of his handsome American. So he watches Armie drop his robe and steps toward the bed. So he sees the long, cut cock stiffening at the sight of his humiliation. So he whines deep in his throat like a kicked puppy.

Now James slips his arm around the thick neck, nestling it in his elbow and slipping a tongue with surprising tenderness into a small ear, murmurs sweet nothings or vile insults into the flushed shell.Armie cannot hear the words, but the look of lust in Henry’s eyes says it must be abuse. The muscle bottom’s back is pulled into a deeper and deeper curve as the assault of hard, fast strokes continues unabated. Little rolls of puppy fat form along the tight arch and bounce in rhythm to the fuck. His pec-tits are pushed up and out, juddering pendulously over the frame of a pink lycra harness that bites into the lush fold of flesh under the breasts. The layer of fat stretched over his massive chest is swaying and shaking. Ripples run back and forth over hairless skin, rebounding until the flesh is quivering and vibrating with tremors of pleasure.

Now Armie sits in an armchair at the end of the bed, facing his man. Henry’s eyes wheel, rolling back in his head, his tongue curling and lolling with the intensity of the assault on his ass. He babbles over and over, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t… I wanted…”. He dissolves into incoherence, all thoughts and words fucked out of his head.

Armie leans forward, catches his face in lithe pianist’s fingers, and now the deep blue eyes focus on him. They say what Henry’s fuck-crazed lips and tongue cannot:

‘I didn’t mean it. I promise.’

And then, guiltily: ‘I’m sorry I’m a whore.’

And then, inevitably, hopelessly: ‘Please let me be the whore that you know I am.’

In this moment, Armie wishes more than anything that he could kiss Henry better. That he could tell him he is enough. That he is beautiful and sweet and worth something. That he doesn’t need to be this desperate, doesn’t need to open his pussy to every passing man in the hope they can fuck some happiness into him. But then the alpha rises inside him. The stud. The sportsman. And he doesn’t return Henry’s gaze with forgiving eyes. And he doesn’t kiss the mouth that lolls, open and drooling. He stands, laces elegant fingers through brown curls and thrusts his cock to the hilt past the slobbering lips over the squirming tongue and deep into the throat of the whore he loves so much.

His thick body impaled from both ends, Henry is helpless and in rapture. Now alongside pain flowering in the dark bruises inflicted on his massive glutes by this vicious stranger he gets to retch and gag around Armie’s exquisite alpha cock, pumping saliva and mucus out around the thrusts. His pussy already pulled wide, he gives all his care and skill to open his throat, to make his mouth tender and wet and submissive to his man. He feels thick fluids bubbling up from deep inside him, coating both his holes for the fucking he deserves. They ooze out down his chin and sweaty thighs. He happily foregoes oxygen to keep the warm erection buried in his mouth longer and longer, hungry to feel the glans lodged deep inside his head like it would never come out. Like he’d never be alone again. As if it could spear and smash his brain into little pieces and he could be the mindless cum dump he knows he ought to be.

He is dimly aware that the thick dick pounding his asshole is speeding up.Armie pulls his cock out and Henry’s mouth chases after.. He looks up, bereft, to see Armie’s familiar smirk. The more experienced alpha has noticed his younger competitor is about to lose control. James lurches forward clumsily, throws his whole weight onto the broad muscular back beneath him, pins Henry and bites down hard on his shoulder. Hard enough to break the skin.To draw blood. Henry wails and his face screws up in pain. The pathetic sound pushes James over the edge. silently. He bucks his hips one last time, buries the length of his cock in Henry’s gaping rectum and unloads. Henry counts seven spurts of semen inside him, gasping happily at every one. This is why he exists. Taking the seed of real men in his fecund body. James slumps over him and keeps on pivoting his narrow hips back and forth, just enough to stir the fluids cooking inside Henry cunt.

“So I guess young guys just don’t have the stamina huh?” Armie laughed, stroking Henry’s head - a silent, shared ‘well done, it’s OK. You got through it’.

Bad move.

“What do you mean? We’re not done. I’m still hard. The bitch has barely been fucked yet.”

James grabs one of Henry’s massive thighs and flips him over as easy as tossing a sack of flour. He spreads the big legs wide, one ankle in each hand, and instead of softening and slipping out of him, Henry feels the erection harden and the thrusts speed up. This time, the upward curving dick arcs perfectly across his prostate and he gurgles with incontinent pleasure, instantly feeling he has betrayed Armie with the sound.

“Fuck! You really do love big dicks. I saw you staring at mine like some cum-starved housewife the minute you got out of your car, but even I’m surprised what a bitch you are.”

Armie looks down. The blush on Henry’s saliva-encrusted face showed James wasn’t lying.

“I bang most of the rich botox-bitches that come through here. Kind of part of the service package actually. Sometimes the husbands like to watch. Never thought the first guy I fucked would have the biggest rack and the juiciest cunt of them all. And your little clit’s been hard the whole time. Even when you started screaming for your boyfriend. As if your faggot pussy hadn’t just inhaled my cock.”

Armie’s jaw clenches with jealous rage. Had Henry really behaved so cheaply? And how dare this kid call his man a faggot with his dick still inside him.

James is too fixated on Henry to notice. “So. Desperate Hausfrau. Are you gonna be a good girl for me and milk another load from my balls?”

“Yes. Please! I need more cum in my pussy” Insults always drive Henry to be more feminine, more of a whore than ever. The only thing he likes more is when the attacks turn physical. He molests his own swollen tits like the world’s meatiest glamour model. “Come on, fuck me son!”

For a moment all the men are silent. Even James’ hips stop pumping. Henry’s blush turns deep fuchsia.

“I mean… I…”

“Damn you are fucked up.”

Armie tries to explain, “I think he meant-‘

“I know what he meant. Look at him. Fuck look at _her._ The massive udders, the pretty face… this sloppy man-cunt. He wants to be a mother and have his son fuck him. And I guess I look just about similar enough to fit the role. You want me to be a real motherfucker huh?” James is grinning wolfishly now, disgusted laughter in his voice.

“Well I think you’re a little old for that.” Armie tries to make peace, hopelessly.

“I’m 19. And this fat old cunt has got to be at least 40.”

This news pulls a moan from Henry and a desperate squirming as he tries to impale himself even deeper on the rock hard teenage dick. So young! The muscular youth would have so much sperm for him. And he was right! Henry was old, old and fat, and so so lucky to have this strong hairy man inside his worthless body.

“Fuck you’re pathetic. Alright then, I’ll knock this faggot MILF up. Guess you can breast feed this one.”

He starts to snap hard thrusts from his hips down into the bulging ass.

“Wait!” Henry yelps. “I want to show you something first. Then breed me.”

James makes a few more thrusts then relents, clearly curious. “What is it?”

Henry looks round for Armie. “Get my bag?”

Armie understands, grins, proud of his big man. This kid thinks he’s some serious hung fucker but Henry is about to show him what he can really do.

He retrieves a big bottle of poppers from the holdall. A deep hit in each nostril and Henry’s eyes are rolling back in pleasure, his pussy lips fluttering and flaring around James’ cock. He starts gabbling sweet little nothings into the air, so Armie pulls out an ten inch dildo for him to suck on, jamming his famous jawline open wide around the thick silicone head.

James grins, clearly aroused, pivots his hips lazily, inexorably, easing in and out of the trembling cunt slit. Moaning dramatically, acting the whore, Henry struggles to push more of the shaft into his mouth, squeals and gags as it hits the back of his throat and coughs out the big toy in a wave of mucus that splatters on his tits. He rubs the head of the dildo in the fluid then slaps it on his nipples making his breast meat quake.

“So that’s what you play with when the American’s dick doesn’t fill your sloppy pussy up enough?”

“Yeah I guess. Or _your_ dick.” Henry grins, mischievously. Armie can’t help thinking that’s a rash move.

“Ha! Fucking bitch.” James laughs at the attempted insult. He grabs the toy and presses the blunt head up against the bottom edge of Henry’s cunt lips, right under the shaft of his own dick.

“Come on, open up. You want to be a good MILF for your handsome son right?”

Henry scrabbles for his poppers, huffs once in each nostril, grits his teeth, nods.

James punches the toy forward into his guts.

The scream echoes round the glass and stone room. Armie can’t bear the pain in the sound and claps his hand over Henry’s mouth.He can see little dick rock hard tenting the pink satin panties, pumping out pre cum even as tears stream down the handsome face in his grip. Why does he need this pain so much?

“More.” James instructs, nodding towards the poppers. Armie helps his struggling lover to inhale again, slips behind the big man to support him, with Henry’s back leaning on his chest

“See she’s loosening up.” James levers his own dick and the thick toy back and forth, alternating thrusts top and bottom.The two shafts fight for space in Henry’s belly, his ass lips are stretched obscenely, on the edge of collapse, spasming and spurting out pussy juice and old cum as the huge overdose of poppers throbs through his nervous system.

“It can go deeper”, James states and Henry nods mutely, utterly defeated by the young alpha. Armie cradles Henry’s head in his hands and kisses his neck and cheeks softly, tastes the salt of tears and sweat, brushes back the curls plastered to his forehead. The grateful smile in his boyfriend’s eyes comforts him a little, but he doesn’t know if he’ll ever understand this need Henry has to be abused so terribly. For an instant he is flooded with sadness that the man he loves has to be this way.

Looking from Henry’s face, screwed up in anguish, to James’ cruel, intent eyes, he sees trouble brewing. ‘Enough!” He barks.

“No! Let the slut take it all. Her pussy is so loose already.”

“I said enough. Take them out. You’re hurting her- Him!”

James smirks, not ready to relent just yet, but for a moment he is not focused and with a shudder Henry’s body solves the stand off. His exhausted rectum spasms and weakly shits out both shafts with a loud, moist fart. The dumb noise and the wave of relaxation make him giggle sweetly. Armie takes his handsome, sweaty beaming face in his hands and kisses the cupids bow of his lips. He pulls Henry round to face him, lean hairy chest to voluptuous breasts, and murmurs into his mouth, “You’re OK baby. You did good.”

But James is transfixed again. Wordlessly, he starts to finger the puffy swollen edges of Henry’s distended cunt, exposed in the new position. He senses the lack of resistance, takes his chance and pushes his hand inside. The puffy labia close easily round his thick wrist. Henry’s head lolls away from Armie, eyes bugging out. Enraptured, overcome with lust, the huge body rolls again onto its back and smooth thighs splay wide in submission.

“James, no!” But Armie can hear his ownuncertain tone, not a strong man defending his lover; more like a scared old woman scolding a child. But now he’s really frighted for the safety of the fuck-drunk slut sprawled on the bed. 

James doesn’t answer. Rough fingers simply tuck Henry’s delicate panties down under his smooth scrotum. “Look. If the bitch doesn’t like it, why is her cock hard and dripping?”

James runs a thumb over the sensitive pink tip of Henry’s erection, gathers the sweet precum and brings it to his mouth. A long, powerful tongue darts out, lapping up Henry’s desire. The gesture is lewd and threatening and horribly arousing all at once.

“Henry, you choose.” James looks down at the quivering, squirming sweaty mass of muscles, tits and need beneath him, and waits for a reply.Armie, holding his man tight, feels Henry shudder, then nod. Hears a soft “Yes.. please… son.”

James’ eyes softens at the sweet words. His free hand pulls Henry’s leg to his shoulder and the sneer disappears from his lips as he peppers the swell of the powerful calf with teasing kisses. The hand inside the distended rectum twists and turns slowly, furls and unfurls. Confident fingers feel out wet folds inside the cavernous man-cunt. Enticed by Henry’s low whines, Armie tries to seize his meaty breasts but for once Henry squirms away, lost in the feeling of the fist inside him.

James’ wrist shifts. Pussy juice spurts and squelches from the stretched lips. The guts slowly _give_ and with a low growl he twists in deeper. A red-pink rim of quivering flesh opens around the hairy sinews of his forearm and Henry scrabbles for poppers begging: “More, please,… More.” More fist? More drugs? He’s beyond explaining but he gets both. James is implacable. Shifting and turning and fighting his way deeper inside the hot red insides of the steroid-engorged body. Armie imagines he can see the outline of the strong limb moving beneath his man’s creamy skin and almost freaks out, but now is not the time for sudden moves. But no, he is not imagining it. The hand is there under the skin and fat and muscle touching parts of Henry he has never reached.

Further up, deeper in, James’ strength forces wide the suffering, spasming innards as Henry gasps and gurgles and takes everything that is given to him like a blessing. His wet, hot guts unfurl and rearrange under the guiding hand that probes and strokes and teases out the way forward. Where guile fails, strength and bravery and desperation find a route. Together they fill the vast cavern of need inside the gorgeous, ruined man.

At last they reach the great width of the elbow, the knot of bone and muscle and sinew. There is a tense pause: the moment of maximum stress. Henry, only just conscious, eyelids fluttering, sighs softly, ‘Please. Please’, and James’ shoulder bunches, shifts and it’s through. Henry’s cock squirts, smattering his stomach and breasts with watery, impotent semen. He feels the hand has taken his heart in a warm, safe grip. For a second time, the exhausted soft muscles inside his body churn, softly contract, and expel the huge intruder in a gush of fluid. The rosebud collapses out between the white marble skin of his glutes. Thick labia pulse and pout uselessly, searching in the sudden chill of the air for something, anything to fill them up. Henry pisses himself. The trickle of warm urine flows over the exposed lips and soaks into the sheets.

Armie murmurs one more gentle, “Well done baby.” He hopes that now, surely, the abuse must be at an end.

“I feel like… Like I…” Henry tries and fails to form words

“Like what baby?”

“He feels like he gave birth.”

Armie looks up at the lean figure crouched between Henry’s thick thighs and thinks perhaps Henry has given birth to a monster. How could someone so young be so-

“And he looks like he’s given birth too. It’s… beautiful.” Armie realises James is quiet now, serious. His face is intent, but also full of care. “It’s like he has a real vagina.So feminine and delicate.” He reaches out to stroke it and Henry flinches instinctively away, but the touch this time is kind, teasing, curious. James smiles at him, almost sweet.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

“It’s.. that’s OK. I.. it felt good too. With the pain. With it all”

“Good.”

He fingers continue their gentle stroking, up and down, fingering piss into the monstrously used slit, and the nimble finger tips ease the flaring rosebud back into the deep muscular folds around the pussy he has created.

Henry smiles now; a tired smile, but also lewd. The swollen hole flutters.

“So. Please…. Will you breed me? Son."

“We will.” Armie takes charge with his deep golden voice. The cunt-struck youth and the insatiable, tender odalisque follow his lead.

He lies back on the bed. Strong bronzed limbs haul Henry’s trembling bulk on top of him and the long, straight, cut dick slips between the vaginal folds. Taking a rosy nipple in each hand he pulls his man down by his pendulous breasts, drawing needy purrs from Henry’s throat. Their lips meet in a chaste kiss, as if Henry being prepared for sacrifice. Armie’s skilfultongue slips inside one pair of shameless lips, and James’ ever-hard cock enters the ruined guts of their lover-wife-mother-whore. Henry is so perfectly destroyed their shafts can move freely in and out. There’s no tightness, no resistance, no competition now. He is big enough, slut enough for the both of them. Their hard cocks slide and spar together inside the unresisting, irresistible fertile cunt.

Dissatisfied with this gentle play, Henry whines like a bitch in heat. He rolls and bounces his fat ass back into their thrusts. They pick up the pace, working as a team with hard, long strokes in alternating rhythms to satisfy their muscle cow bottom. Their fuck toy can’t be hurt. He-She-It is trapped between them; hungry but passive; existing only to please them.James’ hips pummel the bloated, bruised bubble butt that jiggles obscenely with every pump. His teeth find Henry’s neck and shoulders once again. He tastes the hint of blood he drew before, and bites again, more tender now but strong enough to draw a wail from his mother, now his brood mare. Armie can’t resist the soft flesh either; bites into the flushed pink neck. Henry is pinned between two pairs of sharp teeth stabbing into his flesh and two hard shafts impaling his curvaceous rear. His powerful thighs grip tighter and tighter round Armie’s slim waist, his whole body bouncing and rippling between the two studs.

Now his heat rolls over him, unstoppable, “Breed me. I’ve been a good girl. Breed me like you promised. Please! Now!”

The urgency in his voice cuts through. James grabs the back of the harness for leverage, slams his narrow hips forward with all his might and the slutty garment rips clean off. Henry’s breasts bounce free over Armie’s adoring face, who ripples his hips up with quick jabs over the hidden g-spot as his golden pubes stir Henry’s clit-dick into twitching, weeping excitement. James’ huge hands reach round to grab the swaying udders and squeeze, seeking the roid-inflamed mammaries bulging under the layers of fat. He squeezes again, harder. A clear fluid oozes out then sputters in little squirts from the sore nipples, showering the handsome man below. Armie greedily licks up the sweet juice and Henry shudders with lust at the sudden, unexpected fertility of his vast body.

His cunt flares wide open in ecstasy and for a moment the two cocks are twined together in empty space. Then it clamps tight and squeezes, frantic for insemination. James bites down once more and releases his load. He grunts out a mantra, ‘Good girl, good girl. Fuck. Good girl’ with each pulse of sperm, as if he thinks saying the words will somehow make him straight again.The sudden flood of warmth over Armie’s cock sets him off too. He latches onto a breast and bites down hard to drain Henry’s muscle milk into his mouth as his own seed surges out joins that of his son inside the man he loves.

Now Henry, his purpose complete, lets himself go. He screams, throwing his head back, twisting his neck to kiss his handsome young lover, and thrusting his breast deeper between Armie’s eager teeth. Every pumped-up, hormone-enhanced muscle in his huge body flexes, tenses in a paradoxical display of masculine power, then his orgasm rakes through him and everything is softness, shaking, pleading, open and vulnerable. A huge flood of rose-scented fluid pumps of his pussy, drenching their bodies and the ruined bed clothes. His breasts spurt uncontrollably. Armie chokes on the huge shots of liquid fired down his throat. The other tit sprays fluid, milky-white now, across the sheets and onto the marble floor.At last he is done; collapses forward in Armie’s arms, unconscious, his body shaken by deep tremors.

James feels a surge of concern, mouths ‘Is he OK?’ to Armie, across the broad back.

Armie nods, feeling strong, calm. In control. He holds the beautiful head in tanned and gentle hands, brushing back curls from the strong brow. Henry shivers, moans, mouths empty sounds as he rises slowly, terribly slowly, out of his comatose fuck-comma.

Armie’s cock slips easily from Henry’s inert body. Needing relief from the weight of his lover’s bulk, he eases the huge man back into James’ arms, who cradles the big form gingerly as if holding a new born baby.

“He’ll need that tea now.” Armie smiles, standing up to go find some water and towels and begin the clean-up. God knows where they’ll sleep tonight. The bed is a swamp of every fluid their bodies could pump out. He finds the tray waiting at the top of the step. Frigid. Looking out into the night, he sees snowflakes drifting down round their mountain hideaway. Perhaps they’ll be snowed in tomorrow. He takes a sip of the cold tea. Disgusting. Maybe he will never really understand the English.

He finds the water jug and turns back towards the bed. Only the moon, reflected from the marble tiles, illuminates the two bodies kneeling there, intertwined like perverted copies of each other. Their matching pale skin has a blueish cast, broken only by James’ dark hair and the ruddy blush of Henry’s bulging nipples. Trickles of milk - silver in the moonlight - leak down over curve of his breasts and pool in the cute little crease of fat where the heavy organs meet his muscular torso.

Armie watches as James reaches up to trail his fingers across the addictive breasts, touching one, feeling the milk-heavy weight of the other, squeezing a nipple between thumb and finger. He sees the first slight shudder pass through Henry’s frame. Watches as the pretty face, eyes closed, mouth open, arches back hunting for a kiss; and gets one. Now the strong hips of the younger man start to shift against the weak and tender ass - white skin bruised pink and blue and black and as he slides back and forth a terrible slice of red flares down the middle. The youthful cock is still hard, still thrusts inside the helplessly open pussy.

A firm hand on the back now pushes Henry down, down into the familiar submissive pose he loves so much: back arched, glutes spread, face pressed with shame into the swamp of the sheets. Henry must be overwhelmed by the stench of sweat and piss and sperm all mingled with his own milk and the wet explosion of his cunt juices.

With a grunt, James flicks his hips forward, probing more urgently now; deeper, longer, faster. He looks up. Meets Armie’s gaze. Every sinew of his body signals strength, power, masculine ownership of the softly-moaning, quivering muscle bitch trapped once again beneath him. Only this time he is all too willing to be there. And despite the moonlight Henry’s eyes are in shadow: unreadable.


End file.
